


our fears had no teeth

by stelleappese



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: :D, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lazy Mornings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 18:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11469519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleappese/pseuds/stelleappese
Summary: Meyer wakes up with Charlie next to him for the first time in years.





	our fears had no teeth

**Author's Note:**

> (I wrote this on my phone, so there may be weird typos that escaped me. Sorry about that :P)
> 
> Set pretty much right after [hope from every small disaster](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11463834) :)

Meyer wakes up later than usual. The sun is streaming in, the fan spinning slowly. He's sore in places he'd almost forgotten could be sore, and Charlie's arm is wrapped around him tightly.

He's still asleep, Charlie, dark hair messily framing his face. It's turning gray at the temples, Meyer suddenly realises, and reaches out to touch, to curl Charlie's hair behind his ear. Charlie sighs deeply, but doesn't wake up; he snuggles closer, presses his forehead against Meyer's shoulder.

Meyer can't think of any way this moment right here could possibly be improved. He could wake Chalie up, could climb on top of him and ask him if he wants to play some more, and that would be pleasant, but it wouldn't be better than this. Than Charlie's heat against him. Than the steady rising and falling of his chest. Than the peaceful look on his face.

How many year has it been since he's last seen him look like that? Like he feels _safe_...

Some bird is singing loudly out in the trees. The sounds of Havana weakly reach across the garden, carried by the breeze. Meyer turns on his side, rests a hand again Charlie's waist, grinning to himself at how  _soft_ he's become.

He used to be skin and bones, Charlie. There's a picture of him in Meyer's mind, head thrown back, eyes closed, biting his lips as he straddled Meyer, rolling his hips slowly and deliberately. Meyer was holding on to him, fingers gripping Charlie's waist so tight they left bruises. He remembers Charlie's hipbones sticking out, remembers feeling them under his thumbs.

Charlie's hand, up until now crumpled against Meyer, spreads open against his back. He presses his nose against Meyer's throat.  
"Did the world end?" he mutters, his voice heavy with sleep.  
"Not just yet." Meyer answers.  
"Strange. You're still in bed..." Meyer can hear the grin in Charlie's voice; it makes a little smile bloom on his lips.  
"I didn't want to leave while you were sleeping."

Perhaps reading that as a 'I'll leave now,' Charlie squeezes Meyer a bit harder. He presses a kiss to Meyer's collarbone, then moves away. Not much, just enough to look at him.

"Don't do nothing today," he says, "Just today. Stay here."

It's not the first time Meyer had heard that same request, but this time around Charlie doesn't look mischievous, he doesn't look smug. He doesn't pin Meyer against the mattress with his weight and keeps him there until he gives in.  
He just lies there, legs tangled with Meyer's, looking like he still has troubles believing Meyer is actually real, that's he's actually there, that he won't fade like smoke if Charlie happens to not touch him for more than a handful of seaconds.

“Of course,” Meyer says, and Charlie grins of that goofy grin of his. “We can have breakfast in bed. And talk.”  
“About business?”  
“About anything,” Meyer murmurs. About all the things they wanted to tell each other over the past years, but couldn't. Everything. Even the smallest, most idiotic things. “Anything you want.”

 


End file.
